Page 109 of The Best Men
“And the waistcoats,” I add.
I wait for his snark. After all,fuck youis our love language.
But that’s not what happens. Instead, he turns around and takes my mouth in a bossy kiss. And with his knee, he closes the laptop.
“I was watching that,” I say against his lips.
“But now you’re not anymore.”
He pushes me back against the pillows, and my temperature jumps a good ten degrees. God help me, but I cannot resist Mark Banks in a bossy mood.
We may never get to the end of the show.
I don’t even care.
* * *
We do finish the show. Later.
Much later. And then, lying naked in the dark, we debate what might happen in the next episode.
“Lord Ollie will be sent back to the country,” Mark says, emphatic. “And Sir Trevor won’t chase him.”
I scoff. “That bad boy poet is going to be commandeering the next carriage to go after his man.”
“Nope.” Mark insists he’ll be right.
I do the same.
Funny, I can almost see us conducting this same kind of post-mortem when the next episode airs. But I file that underthings that will never happen, like me driving a minivan, or keeping a spreadsheet.
Just because you can picture something doesn’t mean it can or will come true.
When I turn off the light, I kiss the back of his neck, savoring the scent of this well-fucked man. “Hey, Mark?”
“Yeah?”
I kiss him one more time. “Fuck you.”
I can feel his smile in the dark when he says, “Fuck you too.”
36
NOT SO FLOOFY NOW
SATURDAY
MARK
Iwake up alone, and my first reaction is surprise.
And isn’t that just nuts? I blink up at the ceiling, wondering what’s happened to me. For a year, sleeping alone was just fine. It was normal. Now it isn’t anymore.
Yet my time in Miami is nearly over. Twelve hours from now, I’ll be checking into an Orlando hotel with Rosie.
These four days went so very fast. I can’t even stand it.
Can’t stand being in this bed alone either. It feels wrong. Tossing off the covers, I get up, eager to inhale my final minutes alone with Asher before our best man duties kick in.
